


Saved... By A Gryffindor

by scarletladyy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-06
Updated: 2011-07-06
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:18:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletladyy/pseuds/scarletladyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody survives a war unscathed, and that includes Slytherins who believed they were untouchable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saved... By A Gryffindor

"Miss Parkinson?"

Pansy looked nervously at Draco, who smiled reassuringly at her, before standing up and following the mediwitch down the winding corridors of St Mungo's. She held her hands in front of her, tightly clasped together, as she tried to calm her breathing. The only person who knew she was here was Draco, who had practically insisted on it, because ever since the war, Pansy just hadn't been right.

She suffered from painful flashbacks and nightmares, leading to many sleepless nights, and her irritable mood swings were getting on Draco's nerves. So much so, that he'd said he'd have to move out if it continued, because he simply couldn't cope with it. Of course, Pansy didn't believe him, but she didn't want to take the chance; Draco was her rock, he helped her get through the day and over the terrible memories that she had. Without him, she wasn't sure _she'd_ be able to cope, not that she was really coping at the moment anyway.

"Through here, Miss Parkinson," said the mediwitch, scowling at her. Pansy was confused; she'd never seen this woman before in her life, so she didn't understand what on earth she had done to warrant such a response. Until, that was, she walked into the Healer's office and saw none other than Harry Potter sat at the desk, frantically scribbling away. _Oh_. The mediwitch looked from Pansy to Harry, standing there so long it warranted Harry to look up from his parchment.

"That'll be all, thank you, Julia."

The mediwitch, Pansy now knew as Julia, gave her one last glare before closing the door behind them both leaving Pansy standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"Have a seat; I'll be with you in a moment." He flashed a brief smile before turning back to whatever he was working on, and she silently sat down in front of the desk. It was an uncomfortable few minutes, which she spent glancing around the room, eventually running out of places to look and staring at the ground. She'd rather analyse carpet than look at Harry given their history. "Right. Sorry about that," he said cheerfully, looking up from his parchment. "What can I do for you?"

"You're a Mind Healer?" They were the first words out of Pansy's mouth, as Harry Potter was the last person she'd expected to see in this room. Half of her wanted to turn around and go back, but she knew the grief she'd get from Draco if she tried; he probably wouldn't even let her explain why she'd bolted. Surprisingly, he didn't look taken aback by her question and leaned back casually in his chair.

"I am. I was in the Auror programme for a while, but I'd rather have a quiet life. I've had enough involuntary adventures to willingly go looking for more." He placed his fingers in his lap and began twiddling his thumbs. The smile on his face still there as though he'd never met her before. She hadn't bumped into him since she'd tried to give him over to the Dark Lord, but it appeared he had forgotten all about that.

"Why a --?"

"Mind Healer?" Harry finished off for her, causing her to nod. "It's a new healthcare regime they're carrying out, and I'm at the forefront of it. I'm the only Mind Healer they've got, and I take most of my theory, medicines, and other works from the Muggle world of Psychiatry. When I'm not here, I've got my minions working on creating spells. It's a slow process, but we're getting there."

Pansy nodded slowly. "Right."

"So how I can help?"

"Er." Pansy bit her lip awkwardly. "I keep getting nightmares and flashback memories of the war. I've tried Dreamless Sleep potion but I became addicted, and Draco had to wean me off it. I don't know what else to do, and I'm hardly coping."

"I must admit," said Harry, regarding her with a solemn expression. "You do seem rather different to the girl I knew at Hogwarts."

"Yeah, well," muttered Pansy. "Things change. Life changes you, and apparently, so does a war."

"Don't get me wrong," said Harry quickly, "it's not a bad thing. You were rather a bitch."

Pansy raised her eyebrows in shock at hearing such language from Harry but smiled a second later, which he returned. "Could you just get on with it? Please?"

"Right, yes, my apologies. I do have a tendency to get distracted. It sounds as if you're suffering from what the Muggles call Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or rather, PTSD for short."

"And that is?"

"You've developed an anxiety disorder due to the events you witnessed and were a part of during the war," he said sadly. "It's not surprising. I'm sure there are many like you; it was good of you to come in."

"I didn't want to," she mumbled, but he appeared not to have heard her. His diagnosis shocked her. While she had known there was obviously something wrong, she hadn't thought it would be as serious as this. These sorts of things didn't happen to people like her; they happened to the weak and needy -- they happened to Hufflepuffs. "So what can you do about it? Can you just make it go away?"

"I'm afraid not, Miss Parkinson, but the fact that we have magic does give us an advantage over Muggles. I've developed a prototype of a potion similar to Dreamless Seep, which shouldn't have any of the addictive properties or disadvantages that Dreamless Sleep does. However, this will only help to conceal your nightmares, and not actually deal with the trauma you've suffered that's causing the flashbacks, which is what we need to do in order for you to fully recover. I recommend you come and see me every week from now on, and we can talk through your memories and nightmares."

It all sounded rather complicated to Pansy's ears, and she didn't much fancy spending so much time in Harry's company. She mentally cursed Draco for pushing her into this, even if she did know she'd end up thanking him for it. "Er, right. Okay. Does it have to be you? Sorry, I didn't mean it like that -- I just... It's a bit awkward, and that mediwitch obviously hates me."

"Don't worry about it," said Harry casually, writing something down on a piece of parchment. "But yes, it has to be me. I'm the only Mind Healer, as I said before. Here," he handed her the parchment. "Give this to the woman at the reception desk, and she'll give you a vial of the potion I've been working on. So, I'll see you next Thursday, midday, then?"

Pansy stood up swiftly and nodded, stuffing the parchment in her robe pocket. "Sure. Thanks," she added quietly onto the end as she headed towards the door, nearly throwing herself out of it in her haste to leave.

*

The last week had been remarkably easier for Pansy, since the potion Harry had developed had been working. She didn't wake up screaming anymore, and was actually able to get some sleep. This led to her being less irritable, and therefore, her relationship with Draco less strained. In fact, she felt so much better, that she'd nearly cancelled her meeting with Harry... until Draco had found out and forced her to go, that was.

So here she was, sitting in the corridor outside Harry's office waiting for him to finish with a patient. The mediwitch, Julia, was at a nurse's station not far away, giving her the evil eye every now and again. Years ago, Pansy would have gone over there and given her what for, but now, she just ignored the woman. She had more important things on her mind, and one of them was convincing Harry that his potion worked so well she didn't need to see him every week.

It was a compliment, really.

"Thank you, Mr Thomas. I'll see you next week."

Pansy looked up to see Harry's door open and Dean Thomas walk out, blushing when he saw her. She merely nodded at him and stood up, entering Harry's office with thoughts racing through her mind about why Dean could have been there.

"Morning, Miss Parkinson," Harry said cheerily, closing the door behind them. "And how have you been?"

"Excellent," she replied, all thoughts of Dean floating away. "In fact, I've been so good I don't really think this meeting is required."

Harry laughed as he sat down opposite her, smoothing down his tie. "I thought you would say that. Alas, as I explained last week, the potion is just concealment. Remove it, and the nightmares will come flooding back. We need to get to the bottom of exactly why you're having them, and the flashbacks, too. Tell me, have you been anywhere in the past week?"

"No," she replied sadly, inwardly sighing about how her social life had been drastically reduced. She didn't want to go out, because that's when she got the flashbacks. She never knew when they'd appear and scare her half to death, making a show of her in public, and she just wasn't prepared to take that risk. It was easier to stay at home and not have to deal with them.

"And you've had no flashback memories since you last saw me?"

Pansy shook her head.

"Right. How often do you go out?" Harry reached into his desk and took out a piece of parchment, quill at the ready to write down whatever she said.

"Not very often," she said quietly. "Not unless I have to."

"Is that due to your flashback memories?"

"Yes." Pansy nodded slowly. "I don't want to run the risk of running into anything or anyone too familiar and suffering from them. It's just easier to stay at home."

Harry frowned as he scribbled down her response. "Can't be much fun."

Pansy shrugged. "You get used to it."

Harry took out his wand and Charmed his piece of parchment, then lay casually back in his chair. "So what do you think caused these memories and nightmares? What happened during the war? I am afraid I am unaware of what went on for you."

There was a deafening silence in the room, and Pansy wasn't sure she wanted to spill all her secrets to someone like Harry. For all she knew, he could be playing a trick on her, luring her in with his kindness only later to throw it back in her face. Only that was something she would do, not him.

"It's all right. Take your time," he said quietly. "Perhaps it may help if I ask some questions. How about that?"

Pansy nodded; that seemed like a better idea. Maybe that way she wouldn't have to reveal as much information, and therefore, not suffer from any flashbacks.

"Your parents, I think I read that they were killed, near the end of the war?"

All of a sudden, Pansy began to feel extremely sick, bile rising to her throat and feeling as though it was choking her. She saw spots of her mum, suffering at the hands of Macnair, and her dad running towards the Death Eaters with so much purpose that it was heartbreaking to watch him get killed mid-run. The worst part was that Pansy didn't know what to do; she was digging her fingers into the bark of the tree she was hiding behind and unable to stop screaming as she saw her mum falling to the ground, limp and dead.

"Pansy? Pansy!"

Pansy was soon brought back to the present by someone shaking her; it was Harry. He looked extremely concerned and was down on his knees in front of her, frantically calling her name.

"Are you all right?"

She couldn't talk. All she could do was sit, staring at Harry, her breathing taking its time to slow down.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, his hands firmly planted on her knees.

After several moments, Pansy found her voice and said quietly, "Fine."

Harry didn't look convinced, but he did stand up and go back behind his desk again. He was frowning heavily as he quickly made an extra note on the parchment.

"I think we'll leave it there for today, Miss Parkinson."

Pansy was relieved; she didn't want to bump into any more memories. She just wanted to go home and sleep for several hours, to try and forget that this morning and any of her previous experiences had ever happened. "I need some more of that potion you made."

"Right." Harry wrote out another prescription and handed it to her. "But if you think you can go without it, please do. As I said earlier, it is in its beta stage."

Pansy nodded and stood up, grabbing her bag off the floor. "Sure."

"Same time next week?" asked Harry, attempting to confirm their next appointment.

"I guess," said Pansy, leaving the office before he could ask anything else. After all, the last question he'd asked had led to her reliving her parents deaths, and she didn't want to chance any more questions, fearing they might bring on another memory.

With a heavy sigh, she collected her potion and Apparated home, taking a large swig of it before getting into bed fully clothed. She didn't have the energy to undress, she just wanted to escape, and that's exactly what she did.

*

After the last session with Harry, the "Mind Healer", Pansy had decided she wasn't going again. It was too much work, and it confronted too much of her past which she just wanted to bury.

And so, at midday on Thursday, instead of arriving at St Mungo's, Pansy was fast asleep in her luxurious bed. Until there was a knock at the door, that was.

Her plan was to just ignore it, to try and get back to sleep, but the knock grew louder and louder, until they were practically banging her door down. "Fine!" she called loudly as she made her way towards the front door. "I'm coming, calm down."

"Aha! So you are okay then." Harry stood at her door with a wide grin on his face, hands casually in his pockets as though he was just calling round to meet a friend. But she wasn't his friend; she was his patient, and as far as she was concerned, he had no right to be here. "Can I come in?"

"No," said Pansy firmly, rubbing the sleep out her eyes. "What do you want?"

"You didn't show up for your appointment. I wanted to check you were all right."

"Well now you know I'm fine, you can go." Pansy began to shut the door in Harry's face, but he wedged his foot between the door and the doorframe, effectively stopping her closing it in his face. Pansy sighed and said, "You're not going anywhere, are you?"

"Nope," he said cheerily, walking straight through into the living room once she'd fully opened the door. She shut it loudly to make a point of her annoyance and followed him, sitting in Draco's favourite armchair as Harry sprawled across the sofa. "How have you been? I know last week wasn't easy for you."

"I've been fine," she lied, knowing that she'd practically slept her way through the last week. "And yourself?"

"We're not here to talk about me." Harry leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees, staring intently at her. "You haven't been fine, have you?"

After several moments of awkward silence, Pansy shook her head. "Not particularly."

"Does my potion still work?"

"Yes," Pansy said quietly. "It's the only thing getting me through the day anymore. Well, night."

Harry frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Pansy shrugged. "I'm just sleeping a lot during the day, that's all." She eyed him carefully as he looked around their house, seeming to clock onto every little thing in the room.

"Do you live with your boyfriend?" Harry asked, after his eyes had fallen on a set of snitches in prize place on the mantelpiece.

"No." Pansy managed a little laugh. "I live with Draco. We're just good friends."

"Ahh." Harry nodded knowingly; she knew he had that kind of relationship with Granger. "And what's his position on all of this? I think I remember you saying he insisted upon your appointment."

"He did," said Pansy. "He helps if he can, but there's not much he can do, is there? Besides, he works a lot."

"For the Ministry?" Pansy nodded. "And you're quite wrong there, actually. There's a lot he can do to support you, including accompanying you when you go out. Right, I thought we could have a mini-session here. I know that the office at St Mungo's isn't the most comforting place to come every week, but it does get you out, so we'll carry on with that in future. For now, though, I thought we could explore more of what we did last week."

Pansy stared at Harry in stunned silence; he was going to make her relive those awful memories _again_?

"Don't worry," said Harry quickly, upon seeing her panic. "I have some techniques that I think will help you, and we can try and talk through the memories without you actually having to visualise them. Okay?"

"S'pose," Pansy mumbled, glancing at the floor.

"Right," said Harry. "I want to work on some grounding techniques with you. One of the most important things during a flashback is trying to remain in the present, to try and reduce your distress and bring you back to your surroundings. If we're in the middle of talking and you begin to experience a flashback, I want you to get down off the armchair and sit up straight, with your feet flat on the floor. Inhale through your nose, count to ten, and then slowly exhale. Does that sound like something you could do?"

Pansy nodded. "I could try it."

"Good, that's good. I'll be here to help you, and I want you to tell me exactly what you're experiencing. Talking about it, whilst understandably being painful, will help you reconnect with the present and see that your memory, albeit vivid, is in the past and you are not re-experiencing it all over again. It'll take time, but we will eventually be able to discuss it without you having these distressing flashback attacks." Harry stood up and crossed the living room, stopping once he reached the wireless. "I'm also going to put on the WWN to try and help you stay in the present. Does all this sound okay?"

"I guess," said Pansy, finding her voice to be particularly croaky. Despite all the measures Harry was putting in place to try and stop, or reduce, her flashback memories, she wasn't exactly convinced it would work and was hesitant to talk about her past.

"The last time you said 'I guess' was when you said you would turn up for the next session," said Harry, a small smile on his face as he crossed the room and sat down opposite her again. "And here we are, with you not at St Mungo's! Are you not happy with the measures I've put in place?"

"It's not that," said Pansy quickly, clearing her throat afterwards. "It's just... I'm worried, that's all."

Harry gave her a reassuring smile and patted her on the shoulder. "I understand, and that's perfectly normal. But we should try it, don't you think?"

It was several anxious moments before Pansy took the plunge and said, "Yes. We should."

"Great." Harry made himself comfortable on the sofa once more. "Let's begin where we left off last time. You were about to tell me about your parents. In fact, why don't you tell me about your relationship with them; when you were younger?"

This was easier; remembering them before their deaths brought about happier memories, ones that she had forgotten in recent times. "It was good. I was a right little daddy's girl, and my mum doted on me, too. As an only child, I was spoilt rotten; I never wanted for anything. Father worked a lot, though, and Mother did love her social outings. A lot of the time I spent in the company of her friends' children, which wasn't so bad, particularly since she was good friends with Narcissa Malfoy."

"That's how you met Draco?" Harry asked, reaching into his bag and pulling out a quill and parchment, ready to record her words.

Pansy nodded. "Yes. We didn't like each other at first. He thought I was far too prissy, and I thought he was too arrogant." She laughed as she remembered the time she'd pushed him in the lake for getting mud on her dress. "Yes, we didn't get on for quite some time. But, our mothers never noticed and we were kind of forced into a friendship. There was Daphne and Blaise, too, and let's not forget Crabbe and Goyle. They were always in the background somewhere, flanking Draco from the moment he was born.

Not that he needed it, mind. He could take care of himself, and me, when it came to it. I remember Father bringing home a rather vicious owl one day, and it was Draco who stopped it attacking me. My father was furious; apparently it had been expensive, but when he saw how upset I was, he got rid of it. He was like that, my dad. Brisk and stubborn at first, but once you broke through his defences..."

"It sounds like you had a pretty good time of it, if it weren't for your parents' long absences from you."

"Yes." Pansy sighed heavily as she had far too few memories of them. "As I grew older my mother grew obsessed with making sure I looked perfect, especially since she wanted me to marry Draco. That's why we went to the Yule Ball together, you know, because our mothers pushed us into it. We'd always known we weren't meant to be a couple, that we were just friends."

"Didn't you go out for a while?" Harry asked, distracted by her talk of Draco rather than her parents.

"We did, but only to get them off our backs. He was secretly shagging Daphne Greengrass the whole time. Makes you wonder if Astoria knows..."

Harry laughed. "I doubt it. Wouldn't make for very good conversation."

"No," Pansy remarked. "I just hope it doesn't come out before the wedding later this year, at least. Astoria's good for him, I think. She manages to keep his arrogance under control, which let me tell you isn't an easy feat."

"I'll bet," Harry smirked. "But we are avoiding talking about your parents."

"Right," said Pansy sadly. "Where were we? Oh yes, the fact that they weren't around much but when they were, they were the best parents one could have asked for. I remember one particular day we went for a picnic, just outside Hogsmeade, and Father and I played in the stream, throwing a ball to one another. My mother wasn't impressed, constantly complaining about how we appeared so Muggle-like, but my father just ignored her. She eventually joined in, after we soaked her that was."

Harry smiled broadly at her. "Did they write to you much, at Hogwarts? Did you go home during the holidays?"

"We wrote to each other monthly, and I did go home during the holidays. Wouldn't catch me having my Christmas dinner with the likes of you," she laughed, causing Harry to do the same. "It wasn't exactly my crowd, and Mother always held these fantastic Christmas balls. She invited everyone who was anyone, and the ballroom was filled with families of note. She used to take me shopping the Saturday beforehand, making sure I had my outfit and make up right, and fitting me in for a hair appointment. I usually did my own, but she really did want me looking my very best.

"I remember even Draco saying 'wow' one year, and that was unusual in and of itself. He'll shag anyone, but he's always been very picky when it comes to who he finds attractive."

"That does indeed sound like him," replied Harry, his voice growing quieter as he asked his next question. "Were they Death Eaters?"

Pansy shook her head quickly. "No. They were supporters of the cause, but that was about as far as it went. Apparently, though, if you weren't _with_ them, you were against them, and my parents paid the price for not taking the Mark." She began to feel nauseous again, and flashes of the curses that were thrown at her mother went through her mind. Remembering what Harry had said, she got down onto the floor and sat straight, with her feet firmly on the ground. She focused entirely on her breathing, and to her remarkable surprise, the flashes started to disappear.

"That's good," said Harry softly, sitting down next to her on the floor. "What did you see, Pansy?"

"My mother... she... they tortured her before they killed her." She saw her father running towards her mother again, and pressed her hands firmly on the floor as she tried to breathe calmly in and out. "My father was killed when he tried to save her..."

"Where were you during all of this?"

"I was hiding behind a tree, coward that I was. _Am_. It took place in the forest outside Malfoy Manor. We were there during the Malfoy's Spring ball, and as soon as we arrived, the Death Eaters descended on us, including my father's best friend, Lucius Malfoy. They chased us outside into the forest, and I could hear Narcissa and Draco screaming in the background as we ran. There was no Apparating in that forest..."

Harry nodded, a concerned look on his face. "And how did you escape?"

"After they..." Pansy blinked, and her eyes refused to open again, forcing her to remember the chase between herself and the Death Eaters once her mother was dead. Harry's hand on her knee coaxed them open, and she was able to carry on focusing on her breathing, and the sounds of Celestina Warbeck from the wireless. "Killed my mother, I ran towards the edge of the forest, to the gap where I knew I'd be able to Apparate, but they heard me. They called after me, threatening me, and there were only inches between us when I finally managed to escape."

"Escape you did," said Harry, turning the wireless up a notch with his wand. "You're here, now. You've gone through all that once; you don't need to relive it again."

Pansy nodded as the memories floated away, leaving blank, white spots in her mind. "I know."

"If you want to remember your parents, Pansy, remember the picnic near Hogsmeade, or the Christmas balls that your mother dressed you up for. If you find yourself remembering that night, try these techniques that I've just shown you and bring up the memories of your childhood." Harry dug into his pockets and took out a small piece of parchment. "Here's my Floo address. If you ever need me, don't hesitate to contact me. I'm here to help, no matter what time of the day or night."

Pansy took the parchment and placed it on the end table next to her, briefly smiling at him. "Thanks."

"I think we've made a lot of good progress today," said Harry, standing up. "But I think we'll leave it there for now, we don't want to rush you too soon. So, same time next week, St Mungo's?"

"Yes," said Pansy firmly. Now she was able to see that Harry could help her, she was determined to continue to see him; he was her one shot at getting better. "And thank you."

"No need to thank me," said Harry cheerily, walking to the front door. "I'm just doing my job. See you next week, Miss Parkinson."

"Bye," she said as she closed the door behind him. It really did appear as though he'd forgotten all about their encounter at the final battle. Either that or he put it down to a stupid, childish mistake. Regardless of the reason, Pansy couldn't help but be grateful, because if it wasn't for Harry now, she had no clue where she'd be.

*

As the weeks went by, Pansy began to talk more and more about the horrors she'd seen during the war, able to open up to Harry far more easily than she would have previously thought. She made sure to attend every session, and was usually a few minutes early, not even caring anymore that Julia still thought she was the scum of the earth.

Today, however, was different, and Pansy found herself standing outside the Leaky Cauldron and looking straight down Diagon Alley. Harry had decided it would be a good idea for her to confront places she believed caused her flashback memories, and Diagon Alley was one of them.

Last week, Pansy had poured her heart out about how she'd seen three people killed and one mercilessly tortured here when the Malfoy's had taken her family 'out for a stroll', as they had called it. What Pansy now knew was that it was a warning; a warning that those tortured and killed could be them next. Pansy's parents had never been ones to give in, though, and had still refused to take the Mark even after that.

Pansy thought they were stupid, even if she did admire them for their strength. She'd have rather they took the Dark Mark and became Death Eaters, escaping the war with their lives and still able to look after her. But they didn't, and they weren't here to help her through her trauma.

Harry was, though, and he was sitting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour with his head aimed towards the early summer sun, as though trying to get a tan.

Taking a deep breath, Pansy walked down Diagon Alley and sat next to Harry. "What on earth are you doing?"

"I like the sun. Don't you like the sun?" he asked, as though what he was doing was perfectly normal.

Pansy shrugged. "I suppose. But not enough to make a prat of myself. You do realise how ridiculous you look, don't you?"

"And there's the Pansy I remember," said Harry, laughing. "Here, I'll get the ice creams. What do you want?"

"Chocolate and raspberry, please." Pansy took a sickle out of her bag and placed it on the table, but Harry sighed and entered the parlour without taking it. She avoided looking around Diagon Alley, not even wanting to glance at the people passing who she knew would be giving her odd looks for being with Harry. Especially since what she'd done had been highly publicised in an article in the _Daily Prophet_.

Harry appeared five minutes later with two ice creams exactly the same, handing one to her with a smile.

"Why did you choose the same as me?" she said, taking the ice cream and frowning.

"Chocolate and raspberry has always been my favourite. It's the first ice cream I ever had from here; Hagrid bought it me on my first visit."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Touching."

"Are our sessions helping you? Are you feeling better?" Harry began to lick all the raspberry sauce off the chocolate; quite a strange way of eating ice cream, if you asked Pansy. "You seem a lot more like yourself than when you first came to me."

"I am feeling a lot better," said Pansy, happy in the knowledge that she got her flashback memories a lot less frequently these days and was finally able to sleep through the night without Harry's potion sometimes. Only sometimes, though. There were still nights when she woke up screaming, drenched in her own sweat as her parents' deaths flashed before her eyes.

"And my potion, you're doing as I asked? You're only taking it a couple of times a week?"

"Yes." Pansy sighed, feeling a little as though Harry was nagging her. "Actually sleeping and having dreams unrelated to my past is something I haven't done in a long time, and I'm very grateful for it."

"Good. That's good." As Harry licked his ice cream, Pansy noticed that his tongue was rather large, and found she was thinking of all the things he could do with that tongue. She shook herself mentally and dragged that thought away from her mind, concerned that it had even appeared in the first place. Why on earth was she wondering that? "How does it feel being here today?"

For the first time since they'd got there, Pansy dared look at the buildings and the shoppers hurrying through the street; everything was so very different to how it had been when she'd first visited as a little girl. Her earlier memories were filled with happiness and excitement; buying her schoolbooks and getting her first owl, but her later memories were horrific and painful. Her head began to throb, and she grabbed hold of the table to try and ground herself.

Harry must have noticed her discomfort, for he said, "We may not have the wireless here, but there is the hustle and bustle of the crowd, which should help. I know it's a lot harder in public, and if you want to leave, just say so."

It did; everyone was very loud and it was helping to keep Pansy in the present. She saw very brief flashes of the murders she'd witnessed, but nothing like the flashbacks she'd experienced when she'd been to Diagon Alley before. This was tolerable; this was something she could manage, and that revelation surprised her no end. Half of her had believed there really was no hope, until she'd had her first appointment with Harry, of course. "No. I'm fine."

"Brilliant," said Harry, taking a bite out of the cone. A little bit of ice cream slipped and landed on his chin, and without thinking, Pansy leant forward and wiped it off with her finger, smiling at him. "Er..." He looked uncomfortable and awkward, and as she leant back in her chair, she deeply regretted what she'd just done. "I don't think that's very appropriate. I'm married."

Pansy nodded. "Right. Sure. Sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay," said Harry, waving it away with his hand. "As long as there's nothing else there...?"

"There isn't." Pansy laughed a little; how could anyone possibly think she fancied Harry Potter? The idea was absurd! "You've just got far too big an ego."

He frowned, and she knew he was thinking there was more to it than what she'd said. But she knew there wasn't. It just wasn't possible. "So I think we should leave it there for today."

Pansy nodded in agreement; she wanted to go home and forget that she'd ever touched Harry in a gentle manner. "Me too. Where are we meeting next week?"

"Um." Harry blushed a little. "Perhaps we should have a break next week, and resume the week after? Is that okay?"

"That's fine." She knew it was because of what she'd done, but maybe it was a good idea. Perhaps by then she wouldn't think weird thoughts about him, or reach forward and wipe something off his lip as though she were his wife. "I'll see you week after next, then," she said, flashing him a polite smile before heading back out towards the Leaky Cauldron.

A nap, that was what she needed. Some time to clear her head and return to normal.

*

Ever since that fateful day when Pansy had leant forward and wiped ice cream off Harry's chin, she had been unable to stop thinking about him. She was sure she didn't fancy him, but _something_ was making him constantly on her mind, filling her dreams. Sure, they were better than the nightmares she used to have, but at the end of the day, dreaming about the one man who was helping her wasn't exactly good.

It made the meetings with him a lot more awkward, but she was growing better by the session, pouring out her horrific memories and channelling her good ones to help her overcome her PTSD. She didn't want anything to jeopardise that, so if it meant sitting opposite him in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, as they had last week, and having the sudden urge to lean over and kiss him, so be it.

Thankfully, Pansy had managed to restrain herself, and hadn't done anything embarrassing since. She'd thought embarrassing things, sure, but that was as far as it went.

"Afternoon," Harry said casually as she strolled into Flourish and Blott's. "How are you today?"

Pansy beamed. "I'm great, thanks. I haven't used your potion in over a week."

"That's brilliant news!" said Harry, patting her on the back. "I'm really proud of you. I'd say we're nearly done, you know. How long has it been since you had a flashback memory?"

"I had one last week, when Draco took me to Hogsmeade, but I was able to control it and remain out. We had a good time... the first in a long time."

"I'm really pleased for you." Harry smiled at her and led her over to a bookshelf near the back. "Do you know why I requested to meet here?"

Pansy shook her head. "Haven't a clue. I don't recall ever mentioning it to you."

"No, you haven't. I wanted to show you this," he said, grabbing a book off the shelf and handing it to her. "It got published a month ago, and they started selling it in shops yesterday."

The book's title was 'Mind Healers - How They Can Help' by Harry J Potter, and Pansy had to laugh at the image of a brain on the front, with a speech bubble coming out of it saying 'I need fixing, too!' "Clever," she remarked.

"Thanks." He looked extremely chuffed with himself as he took the book back and placed it on the shelf. "Fancy a signed copy? Could be worth a lot one day."

"Yeah, all right, then," she said. "After all, what with you being the Chosen One and all, I'm sure it'll be worth millions within a year."

Harry smirked. "Don't exaggerate, now. Two years. Anyway, this is the first of a series of books I'm writing on Mind Healing; I want to get as many people interested in it as possible. I'm also starting a course at St Mungo's, and I've already got three people signed up. Granted, one of them is Ron, but..."

"Weasley?" He nodded. "Doesn't seem like the type to have the patience for this sort of thing."

"Eh. He can be patient when he wants to be. He's a good bloke who just wants to help people, and the Auror programme just isn't giving him the chance to do that. Speaking of which," said Harry, walking over to the sofa in the corner of the bookshop. "I wanted to ask you a couple of things. Feel free to say no, I won't be offended."

"Go on." She was curious now; what could he possibly want to ask her? Thoughts of being his girlfriend went through her mind, but she quickly vanquished them as he began to speak.

"One of the books I plan to write is going to contain case studies of patients I've worked with, and I wanted to ask if I could include you? Your name wouldn't be published. It's just you've made such great progress I think you'd be an inspiration to anyone."

Pansy blushed profusely. "Thanks, I guess. Yeah, sure, you can do that. Don't see why not. And the other?"

"I mentioned that one of the people signed up to my course was Ron, and well, I was wondering if you would mind if he came with us on our next outing, to get a feel for what he'd be doing and how to interact with the patients. The Muggles call them students, and they regularly attend doctors -- their word for Healers -- meetings. How would you feel about that?"

Pansy frowned; she wasn't sure she wanted another person to witness her pain. But, as Harry had said, she'd made excellent progress, and she was extremely proud of that fact. "We can try it, see how it goes. He won't make fun, will he? Or tell anyone what was said?"

"No," said Harry firmly. "He'll be under the confidentiality act, and he's not the sort of person to take the mick about such serious matters. I think you'll find him to be quite the opposite of how you view him."

"Right. So I guess I'll see you and Weasley next week, then?" Harry nodded as they headed towards the front of the bookshop.

"Indeed. How about we meet in Hogsmeade this time? At the Three Broomsticks?"

Pansy nodded and smiled at him. "That sounds great. Congratulations on your book, by the way, and don't forget to bring that signed copy with you next week."

"I won't," said Harry, his laughter fading away as she shut the door behind her and made her way home. Their next session would be interesting indeed, and she just hoped that Weasley didn't hold as big a grudge as people like the mediwitch Julia did.

*

Pansy quickly Apparated to Hogsmeade, running down the street towards the Three Broomsticks as fast as she could. She was a little late since she'd overslept, but stopped outside the pub for a moment to compose herself; she didn't want to look like she cared too much.

Every hair in its perfect place and her breathing calm, Pansy entered the pub and looked around, finding Harry and Ron in the corner. Ron was sitting close to Harry, whispering something in his ear, but blushed when he saw her entering.

"Er, hi," he said as she approached, standing up awkwardly and holding out his hand. When she didn't shake it and looked at it strangely, he withdrew and sat back down again.

"Hi," she said at last, seating herself a little more closely to Harry than to Ron.

"What would you like to drink?" Harry asked, standing up from the table, ready to go to the bar. He and Ron already had drinks, and it made her wonder how long they'd been there, especially since Ron's butterbeer was only a quarter full.

"A butterbeer please." As Harry trotted off, she couldn't help thinking what on earth he was doing leaving her alone with Weasley, who was still blushing and averted her gaze every time she looked at him. "So... how's Granger?" It was the only thing she could think of to mention since she didn't know anything else about him.

"I wouldn't know," said Ron, frowning. "We broke up a couple of months ago."

"Oh." Pansy bit her lip and looked at the floor. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I'm not."

Harry returned with her drink and set it in front of her, seemingly unaware of the awkwardness between her and Ron. "So, how are things?"

"They're good. Been out a couple of times this week. Draco mentioned in passing that he might even offer me his new secretary's job, since she's going on maternity leave soon."

"That sounds like it'd be great for you," remarked Harry.

Pansy nodded. "Yeah, I think it will. As far as I'm aware, I don't have any bad memories linked with the Ministry, and my control over them is good enough now that I think I'd be able to cope if I did."

"You have no idea how good that is to hear," said Harry, smiling. Then he turned to Ron and explained the situation about her flashback memories and nightmares.

"That's great news," said Ron at last, smiling briefly at her before looking around the pub.

"I've had Pansy as a patient for several months now," continued Harry. "She's the most impressive by far. So much so that I think there's only one place we need to visit, and if all goes well, we're done."

"Really?" said Pansy, astonished that she could finally see an end.

Harry nodded and smiled at her. "Yes, really. I think you've taken the techniques I gave you and made them work. Not only that but with you rarely needing the potion anymore... They're great signs, that's all."

"What's the last place?" she asked quietly, even though she was pretty sure she knew the answer.

"The forest around Malfoy Manor."

She nodded slowly and tried to distract herself by looking around the room. She didn't want to look into Harry's eyes, knowing there would be sympathy there, and she avoided Ron's too, in case Harry had filled him in. "So. You two all right?"

"Yeah, great," said Ron, but was elbowed a second later by Harry.

"We can't miss it,." Harry said. "It's the most important place, and will really put to the test what you've learnt."

She gulped and forced herself to look at Harry, who was leaning forwards in his chair. "I know. And I'll do it, I'll be there."

Harry smiled broadly at her. "Good. So tell me about your trips out, then."

The rest of the evening went remarkably smoothly, as she explained where she and Draco had visited and what they'd got up to, and how she felt about the prospect of a job; something she'd never done before. She was nervous, about the job, but excited all the same. If all went well, his secretary should be going on maternity leave in a month, leaving Pansy plenty of time to have her last session and then prepare for work. Her biggest concern was how much of an arse Draco would be to work for, but she'd always been able to keep him in line, so that shouldn't be too much of a problem.

"Oh, I remembered the book," said Harry, standing up and placing it on the table.. "Anyway, I'd better be off, and Ron, you need to get back to work."

"Yeah," Ron sighed, taking one last swig of his butterbeer before standing up... at the very same time as Pansy, leading them to collide and bump into each other, feeling even more awkward than before. "Er, sorry."

"It's fine," she said, smoothing herself down. As she looked at him, she found herself analysing his features, and liking what she saw. The stubble around his mouth made him look extremely sexy, and the way he wore his hair down to his shoulders was something that she'd always found attractive in a man. She'd spent years trying to get Draco to grow his hair long, but he wouldn't because of his father, and as much as Pansy despised Lucius, she did have to admit he had attractive hair. "See you next week, then," she said quickly, holding Ron's gaze for longer than she probably should have.

Grabbing the book and with a goodbye to Harry, Pansy left the pub, unaware that that encounter would be the start of a whole new beginning for her.

*

"Ready?" Harry asked as he took her right hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

Pansy nodded. "As I'll ever be." She held out her left hand for Ron, who was looking awkwardly around him. When he took it, it was warm and inviting, and it sent tingly sensations throughout her body. When Harry began the countdown, she looked straight at Ron, who met her gaze mere seconds before they Apparated.

When they appeared just outside the Malfoy Manor forest, Pansy felt nauseous, but she wasn't sure if that was because of the Side-Along Apparition or whether she was about to experience a flashback.

"You okay?" Harry let go of her hand, but it was a few seconds longer before Ron did, leading to a very confused look from Harry. She nodded swiftly, hoping he wouldn't make anything out if it. She certainly didn't. "Um, so, do you think you're ready to tackle it?"

She bit her lip and said, "Yes," staring at the vast woods before her. As they walked into them, she felt her head begin to spin a little, and grabbed the nearest thing to her to steady herself -- Ron. "Er, sorry," she said, readjusting herself to get her balance right.

"It's fine," replied Ron, averting his gaze and blushing profusely.

Before Harry could ask _again_ if she was okay, Pansy said, "I can do this," and boldly walked into the forest. She didn't have a clue where the exact spot was that her parents died, since all the trees looked exactly the same, but none the less, being there was weighing down on her more than she'd expected. Thankfully, though, talking about everything she'd been through and mastering the breathing techniques worked, and she found that during the whole fifteen minutes they were wandering around the forest, she only had one flashback memory, and she was able to combat it. "How long are we staying here?"

"As long as you want," said Harry, hands casually in his pockets. "You appear to have coped remarkably well, and I think it shows that you're nearly better. Of course, it will take some time before you can come here and mourn the losses of your parents without any flashbacks at all, but I'd say our therapy is done."

Pansy smiled in relief. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Tears began to form in her eyes, from happiness rather than the ones she usually had from stress. "I'm only going to say this once," she said, laughing through her tears. "So listen up. Thank you."

"Yes," said Harry thoughtfully. "I'd say you really are back to your old self after all."

Pansy rolled her eyes and said, "I need a drink. Anyone up for the Leaky Cauldron?"

"I'm up for that," said Ron cheerfully, grinning like an idiot. "Never turn down a pint, me. Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "Sorry, I can't. Ginny and I are going out tonight; she's been nagging me to take her to this fancy restaurant for yonks."

"Oi, watch it," said Ron, playfully elbowing Harry. "Guess it's just me and you, then, Parkinson."

"So it would seem." Pansy was appearing rather cool, but the fact of the matter was that, deep down, very deep down, she was rather looking forward to some alone time with Ron. There was just something about him that made him different from all the other men she'd gone out with; perhaps it was that he was _nice_. Regardless, Pansy wasn't going to give him an easy time of it, and was planning on playing hard to get.

"Ready?" Ron asked, holding out his arm for Side-Along Apparition.

"As I'll ever be," muttered Pansy, taking his arm and preparing not only for the journey, but also the new start she was able to have. A life pretty much free of flashback memories and nightmares, able to go where she pleased and do what she wanted, and unbeknown to Ron, he was going to bear the brunt of her new found freedom.


End file.
